What I Learned in Canada
by siapom
Summary: Aug CBPC - a late response. Booth learned a very good lesson while visiting Toronto with his partner. Now, he just has to make it through the day and face the consequences of his actions. Will his body survive?


**Disclaimer:** I don't own Bones. But, I promise that when I take the characters out to play, I do put them back exactly where I found them.

**A/N:** I swear that I wrote the part about the car before seeing the season premiere. I really, really did. And while I was going to change it after watching the premiere, I couldn't come up with anything that worked quite right. So… Eh. That part just stayed.

**What I Learned In Canada**

"Ow!"

Seeley Booth's hand shot out, trying to catch that of his abuser. Missing, he swiveled around just in time to see Angela Montenegro slinking through the doorway of her office, a broad grin gracing her features.

Damn it, but that was starting to hurt. He rubbed his left butt cheek and yelled after her, "That makes four times, Angela! Keep it up, and I'll charge you with sexual harassment."

He'd turned to walk away when he heard her call back with a giggle, "Then you shouldn't dress like that, Booth. You're practically begging for it!"

Booth's eyes narrowed as he stomped off mumbling, "Begging for it? Shouldn't dress like this? If I ever said that to a woman, I'd be handing over my badge in a heartbeat, but when a woman says it… Oh, no! Then it's just fine. It's apparently OKAY for WOMEN to be SEXIST PIGS!" He shouted that last bit over his shoulder toward Angela's open door, only to hear her laughter follow him the rest of the way down the hall.

"Who's sexist?"

Booth stopped and fixed his best glare on Temperance Brennan as she walked around the corner. Unfortunately, the distinct twinkle he found in her eyes distracted him to the point that he didn't see the lovely, young lab tech that snaked a path behind him, smacking the right side of his ass on her way by. He whirled, Angela's name on his lips, but the woman he was expecting wasn't there. When the petite blond winked, his mouth snapped closed but then opened again as he tried to figure out what to say.

"I… Who're… I don't even _know _you!" He pointed at her before crossing his arms in front of his chest, defensive and huddling against her lascivious gaze.

Blue eyes sparkling, the young woman's grin grew until a dimple appeared on one rosy cheek. When Booth failed to smile back, she twiddled her fingers and blew him a kiss before skittering away.

"That's Melody."

His gaze whipped back to his partner, who gestured toward the now empty corridor and continued, "I could introduce you if you want." She nudged him with her elbow. "She seems to like you."

He sneered and turned away, keeping an eye out for any other women that might be nearby.

Brennan followed him with chuckle, watching his shoulders hunch even tighter as Cam appeared from an open doorway further up the hall. As she heard him start to mumble again, she did her best to stifle a laugh. But, she couldn't hold it in as she heard him wish that he "hadn't been such an idiotic wuss during their trip to Canada."

xxxxxxxxxx

_Six days ago…_

Booth's right knee smacked into the steering wheel for the third time in as many minutes as he hit the brakes – again. He'd allowed himself to be suckered into accepting the tiny rental car back at the Toronto airport, even though he'd wanted to wait for the SUV that the agency had reserved. Now, with fingers tightly wrapped around the steering wheel, he continued a silent argument with himself that he really should have told Brennan to stuff it and then wait for said SUV to be returned. But, instead, he'd been a complete ninny and allowed Brennan's nagging about being late for the first day of the Science In Law Enforcement Conference to influence him; so, he'd grudgingly accepted the sub-compact as a replacement for his truck. Man did he regret that choice.

"Squeeze Left." Brennan poked him in the arm with her pointy finger. "Booth! The sign said to Squeeze Left!"

"I'm trying, Bones! Don't you think I'm trying?" His scowl reflecting back at him from the car's too close window, Booth craned his head to look over his left shoulder and then ducked to see under the seatbelt and out the tiny side window, hoping to find a break in traffic. "It would help if they gave ya a bit more warning that your lane was going to just come to an _end_. _Canadians._" The scowl deepened. "At least in the US we have enough signs to make for safe driving."

"Why do you have such an innate dislike for foreign countries and their customs? I find them fascinating."

"Of course you do." He mumbled to himself some more as the car was forced to a crawl and then to stillness. "Damn."

"Ah ha!" He hit the accelerator just in time to squeeze the little car in between an SUV and a tractor-trailer in the next lane over. When his partner squeaked a protest, he flicked his right hand out to smack her shoulder saying, "Hey, you were the one in the all fire hurry for me to 'squeeze left'".

Brennan punched him in the shoulder. Hard.

"Ouch! What was that for?" He spared a glance at her before moving his attention to the bumper-to-bumper traffic, still probing the spot where her knuckles had gouged into his skin.

Brennan, in the meantime, rubbed her boob and shoulder with the heel of her hand. "I was telling you to move into the left-hand lane, Booth. NOT fondle my left _breast_!"

Sputtering, Booth darted a look out of the corner of his eye. "I did not! I hit your shoulder!"

She turned a resentful glare his way. "I'm a forensic anthropologist, Booth. I _think_ I know how to differentiate between my shoulder and my breast."

"Oh, and I don't know the difference between the two?" He had to slam on the brakes and mashed his knee into the wheel again. "Damn it!"

Brennan looked at him disparagingly before answering his question, "You have no experience with my physique specifically, but I would think that you've seen sufficient, similar examples to deduce the difference."

"Wha?" Booth watched his side mirror as another truck and trailer roared by riding the line between its lane and his. After replaying the comment in his head, Booth turned to look her square in the eye. "That's a low blow, Bones. There's no need to bring my dating history into – "

She smacked him with her left hand. "Eyes on the traffic, please."

He snapped his gaze forward and rubbed the spot where she'd hit him. "Uh huh. Now who's hitting who in the chest, huh?"

With a huff, she crossed her arms and refused to speak to him for the rest of the drive.

xxxxxxxxxx

"Stop it, Booth!" Brennan smacked Booth's left hand away.

"Hey!" Booth rubbed the back of his reddened hand. "Now what? What is it about Canada that makes you want to beat me up?"

She only glared and ignored the stares of the other tourists on Yonge Street as she explained, "Just because we're out of the car doesn't mean that my right breast is an acceptable alternative for slapping!"

A flush spread under Booth's summer tan as he glanced around at the group of elderly women that had been walking behind them for the past few blocks and that were now whispering and pointing at him. He gestured to Brennan and then turned to them, hands raised in innocence. "I didn't really – " He hooked a thumb in Brennan's direction and shrugged, to which she again smacked his hand.

The smallest woman in the group huffed and rapped his other hand with her handbag, a sneer twisting her grandmotherly features. "You pitiful young man. Hitting a woman. Wouldn't your mother be ashamed?" She sniffed, looked at her posse of friends and started to walk off as quickly as her spindly legs would carry her. "Come on girls. We don't want to be around a hooligan like him." She glanced at the only woman in the group who was shorter than she was. "I told you, Alice, that we should've gone to Disney World. But, no. You wanted to go visit the great white North! Psh." She glanced at Booth. "Great and white my – "

"Melba!" The smaller woman grabbed the feisty one and started to pull her into a store, while continuing her reproach in a soft, southern drawl. "Now, you watch your language, Melba. We're all too close to that final visit with the great Almighty for you to start sullying your record with that mouth of yours. Why if your dear, sweet Joseph were still alive to hear you say such words he'd – "

Booth and Brennan didn't get to hear what Joseph would do since the door to the shop swung shut with a tinkle of its miniature wind chimes. But Booth still stood there, mouth hanging open. "But, I'm an FBI agent!"

"Booth!" Brennan grabbed his arm when it looked like he might follow them into the store. As he resisted, she tugged harder until she'd succeeded in pulling him off to the side of the sidewalk. When he struggled to turn back to the gift shop, she used her other arm to twist his wrist behind his back.

That got his attention.

"Ouch! Ah! Bones! Let go." He writhed a bit as she tightened her grip.

"Are you going to leave the old women alone?" Her brows rose over her sea colored eyes. When he didn't answer she gave a slight tug, "Well?"

Booth blinked and nodded. "Yeah. Jeez, Bones, it's not like I was going to chase her down for assaulting an officer. I was just going to explain what happened." As she released his wrist, he rubbed to spots her fingers had left behind. Inspecting the damage he said, "That old bat should've beaten _you_ with her purse."

Brennan just smacked his shoulder with the back of her hand.

"And again with the beating! Canada isn't doing any wonders for your attitude, Bones." He shook his head as she turned to him, taking a challenging stance.

"My attitude? You keep molesting me – "

"_Molesting_ you!?"

" – and you're concerned about my attitude?" She put her hands on his hips and leaned into his personal space, ignoring his interruption.

Booth unconsciously mirrored her pose. "Now hold on, Bones, I have never – "

"Excuse me, miss, but is everything okay here?"

The partners turned their heads in unison to glare at the interloper, and then moved their gazes up. And up. The man, a local police officer, was very tall and very handsomely built.

Booth dropped his arms to his sides and answered first. "Everything's fine, Officer…," he looked straight forward at the man's chest, "…Thibadeau. Miss High and Mighty here was just – "

The officer's deep bass cut him off, "Excuse me, sir, but I was asking the lady if _she_ was okay." He turned to Brennan. "Ma'am?"

With a smirk, Brennan glanced at Booth and answered, "I'm fine. Trust me, he's not a threat."

Thibadeau didn't look convinced. "Are you sure? Because I thought I heard you say he was molest – "

"Oh, for God's… I'm an FBI Agent. I am _not_ abusing my partner. Or anyone else, for that matter!"

Officer Thibadeau's features turned harsh as he faced Booth. "Sir, I would respectfully ask that you stop interrupting me as I'm speaking with Ms…?" He looked at Brennan.

"Brennan," she supplied, still smirking. "And, it's Doctor, actually." She backed up a step and tilted her head to the side, eyes wide and appraising.

Thibadeau smiled. "Ah! Well, then, Dr. Brennan. Brains and beauty. That's quite impressive."

Booth scoffed and rolled his eyes as his partner thanked the taller man. "Excuse me, Thibadeau, but do you think you could stop flirting with my partner and allow us to get back to what we were doing?"

The officer looked him up and down before addressing Brennan again. "Is he always this overpowering in his dealings with you, Dr. Brennan? Because, if he is truly threatening your well being, I'm sure I could be of some service." He looked at Booth and crossed his massive arms, squeezing his fists slightly so that the muscles of his forearms were prominently displayed.

Booth took another step back and for the second time that day raised his hands in a gesture of innocence. As he started to speak, another voice broke in to drown him out.

"Oh, good! That officer is taking that young punk to task for abusing that lovely, young lady! Officer! Officer! You be sure to put that bully in his place!"

Booth closed his eyes and mumbled, "Oh, no." When he opened his eyes again, the group of old women from earlier were bearing down on them as Melba continued to chatter on about Booth's delinquent ways.

"He struck that nice woman. Just hauled off and hit her!" She lowered her voice to a loud whisper, "And on her bosom, too!"

The feisty woman's friend, Alice, once again grabbed her by the arm. "Now, Melba, you didn't see any such thing and you know it!" Alice turned to Thibadeau. "My, you really are a rather large man." After starting at him for a moment, she shook her head and continued, "Please, just ignore the comments of my dear friend, here. She's recently had a bit of trouble with the unwanted attentions of a certain gentleman in our housing development, so she's a tad sensitive to intense interactions between consenting men and women, even when said interactions _don't involve her_ in the slightest." Alice sternly looked at her friend. "Isn't that right, Melba?"

Melba just glared.

As Alice started to tap her foot, Booth ran a hand through his hair, unable to believe just how out of control the situation had become. He had a Canadian law enforcement officer practically reaching for his handcuffs, an old lady accusing him of accosting his partner and said partner was too busy making googly eyes at the local law to be of any assistance. It did not look good. With a sigh of resignation, he looked at the people gathered around him and decided there was only one thing to do. He turned to Brennan.

"I'm sorry, Bones."

Startled, Brennan looked at him. "What?"

He looked her in the eye and repeated his apology, "I'm sorry." When her brow crinkled in confusion, he continued. "I had only meant to teasingly tap you on the shoulder. I did not intend to hit you…" He gestured toward her chest. "You know. Anyway, I'm sorry."

Her nose scrunched, confusion still evident. She glanced at the crowd around them before turning her attention back to Booth. "You're apologizing."

He nodded, keeping his eyes only on her. "Yep."

"Huh." She cocked to her head to the side in consideration. "And, you'll admit in front of witnesses that you did, indeed, touch my breast. Even if it was inadvertently."

"Yep."

She nodded in satisfaction. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yes." She raised a finger. "On one condition."

His brown eyes narrowed in suspicion. "What condition?"

"You agree to allow me to buy you a souvenir of our trip, _and _you promise to utilize it in any manner that I instruct."

Booth shifted his weight back and forth, crossing his arms. "What type of souvenir?"

"That's up to my discretion."

"You owe it to her, sonny."

Booth's attention moved to Melba and her crew of friends, and he noticed that Officer Thibadeau was nodding in agreement. So, if it meant that they could get out of this mess and finally go to dinner… He sighed.

"Fine. I agree."

xxxxxxxxxx

_Present day…_

Booth looked down at the front of his t-shirt and read the words for the millionth time: IN CANADA I LEARNED HOW TO…

A sharp slap on the ass sent Booth jumping forward; but, he quickly recovered and turned to give that woman a piece of his mind.

"Angela, I swear! You do that one more time, and I'm…" His voice trailed off as he saw Hodgins backing away with one of his patented, shit-eating grins.

As Booth's eyes widened in alarm, Hodgins just shrugged and said, "Don't get so uptight, dude. It was an acknowledgment of a job well done. Kind of a football butt slap. God knows I'd never agree to wear that shirt in here. This place if full of female piranhas."

Mouth still hanging open, Booth couldn't think of a thing to say as Hodgins strolled away. However, he did come to one firm conclusion. He'd done more than enough to hold up to his end of the bargain, and Brennan could take this shirt and shove it where the sun didn't shine.

Turning on his heel, Booth stalked out of the Jeffersonian. And as he passed through the doors to the lab, he knew that the cameras that had recorded the events of the day would get one last picture of the back of the shirt; which was good since he had every intention of burning the damn thing once he got home. Never again, would he agree to wear a t-shirt when the writing on the back said:

SQUEEZE LEFT & SLAP RIGHT

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

CBPC prompt for August 2008: Souvenir Tee Shirt – Someone or some persons go on vacation and come back with a souvenir tee shirt. The shirt must have a funny or clever saying on it, and there needs to be a story related to said saying.

Ps. This shirt almost existed in reality, and for almost the same reasons as presented. :-)


End file.
